


Hanyauku

by VicTheSpookyGoat



Series: Alexithymia [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Bittersweet, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Morning After, No Spoilers, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicTheSpookyGoat/pseuds/VicTheSpookyGoat
Summary: Hanyauku: (Rukwangali) "The act of walking on tiptoes across warm sand.”
Relationships: Raubahn Aldynn/Warrior of Light
Series: Alexithymia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737175
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	Hanyauku

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to TehJai and DT for their encouragement and proofing as always!
> 
> Set the morning after the last chapter of "And Yet"

_Ul’dah, the Hall of Flames_

Raubahn awoke to a sound his sleep-addled mind could place only as that of a Roegadyn drunkenly hacking at his bedpost with a dull saw blade. Instinctively, he started, reaching for his greatsword, but was stayed as he quickly discovered that his arm was pinned under something heavy, warm, and wholly unexpected.

Beside, and indeed, partly on top of him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck, long limbs splayed at absurd angles, and naked as the day she was born, lay the Warrior of Light. She had not stirred an ilm, despite his sudden movement. Were it not for her persistent, bone-rattling snores, he might have mistaken her for dead. The combined effect caused him to wonder how long it had been since she had slept so. Surely she had earned it, for all that was demanded of her...

He was loath to wake her, though he knew he must. To have her in his bed at all was a revelation; to have her in his bed, bathed in the soft light of morning, so utterly beautiful and unguarded, was almost too much to believe. 

Carefully, he curled his hand to brush a stray hair from her cheek, then let his fingers fall to her shoulder, tracing a featherlight caress down her lean arm, catching on a faded scar just below her bicep. She shifted at his touch, drawing her hand in to rest on his chest and pressing her face closer to his neck, grazing her lips against his jaw, but still slept on. Ruefully, he found that he wanted nothing more than to simply lay there, perhaps forever, to feel her warmth beside him, to drink in all of her graceful curves and hard angles, and even, gods help him, to hear her _snore_. 

The sounds of fresh recruits performing their morning drills drifted in from the training grounds outside his window, a painful reminder that duty called to them both; him to the Chamber of Rule, her to... only Twelve knew where. How long would it be before he saw her again? What fresh hells awaited her? These were useless questions, he knew; questions that neither of them could answer, nor likely even bring themselves to discuss.

Resignation settling in, Raubahn tilted his head to press his lips to her cheek, then to whisper in her ear. “Moni…”

Nothing.

A bit louder, he tried again. “Moni.”

The Elezen merely snorted and rolled away, curling one arm to her chest and letting the other dangle limply over the side of the bed. At least her incessant snoring had ceased…

The sudden shift of her weight had set off a different call, though, and he found himself urgently and uncomfortably needing to rise. Groaning, he carefully extricated his arm from beneath her head and sat up. This also seemed to have no effect on her slumber, so with some difficulty, he pushed himself up, swinging one leg, then the other, over her, careful not to knock her from her precarious position at the edge of the mattress. _Still_ she did not stir. Seven hells… she was as stubborn asleep as she was awake, apparently.

Further attempts to rouse her would have to wait, he decided, and drew the sheet over the willowy length of her. It was a pointless gesture, perhaps, given what they had done the night before, but it seemed somehow disrespectful to leave her lying there so exposed. Not that he was in any position to speak of modesty…

Retrieving his tunic from the foot of the bed, Raubahn strode to the washroom to answer nature’s call and wash the sleep from his eyes. No sooner had he finished relieving himself, though, then came an insistent banging at the door to his quarters, followed by the sound of the heavy oak door swinging open. Shite.

“Father, you must come quickly!” Pipin’s voice was urgent with worry. “It’s the Warrior of Light, she’s gone mi-“ 

His son’s voice choked to a halt, and as Raubahn barrelled into the bedroom and followed Pipin’s mortified gaze, he quickly realized why.

Moni, in all her glory, was perched at the edge of the bed, stretching and yawning and completely oblivious to her own state… or that of anyone else in the room for that matter.

“Ah-ha, uh, Mistress Penni!” Pipin exclaimed, reclaiming just enough of his composure to turn on his heel, eyes screwed firmly shut. “I- a thousand apologies, I did not realize- Master Alphinaud was-”

Moni froze momentarily, mid stretch, then relaxed and regarded the Marshall with a look of dry amusement, before turning a far less charitable look on Raubahn as she stood and wrapped the sheet around herself torturously slowly. “You can assure Master Alphinaud that I am hale and whole. Please convey my apologies, I will join him at the Quicksand within the bell.”

Eyes still shut tight, and obviously still flustered, Pipin gave a Flame salute, though the gesture was considerably less impressive when directed at a door. “Aye, of course!”

Still fixing Raubahn in place with a look that could cut glass, but her voice low and silky, she added, “And Flame Marshall?”

“Aye…?”

“I trust that I can rely on your _discretion_?”

At this, Pipin cast a tentative glance over his shoulder, peeking from one half-open eye to ensure that she was at least decent before giving her a reassuring nod. “Aye. Your honor is safe with me, my lady.”

Moni’s expression softened into something unreadable as she met his eye. “My privacy will suffice. But thank you.”

With another solemn nod for Moni and a vulpine grin for his father, Pipin retreated, leaving the Flame General to deal with what he was sure would be the inevitable ire of the Warrior of Light.

To his immense relief and even greater surprise, however, when Moni met his eye again, it was with an expression of barely contained laughter. He had never seen such a look cross her face, so often confined as it was within the closely guarded borders between stoic and inscrutable. The sight of her, wrapped so haphazardly in his bedsheet, straining to stifle a fit of _giggles_ , her pale eyes full of humor and affection, brought a warm swell to his chest and he found himself chuckling at the beautiful absurdity of it all.

Clearly this was the permission she needed, and what little control she had managed to maintain gave way to full throated laughter. He had never heard her laugh either, he realized, and gods, it was the most exquisite sound in the world. It was deep and honest, unpretentious and _infectious._ His own chuckles turned to roars of laughter in its wake, and very soon they were both clutching at their sides and gasping for breath, as if they had decided as one to chase any lingering discomfort or doubt from the room with an unbridled outpouring of joy.

“Gods,” Moni wheezed, as her laughter finally subsided into a mirthful, breathless grin. “His face… I think his soul might have left his body…”

Raubahn could only shake his head, chuckling again, though a bit ruefully this time as he considered what _that_ conversation would entail. Any agitation he might have felt dissolved, though, as he met her gaze again. She was still grinning, her lovely eyes still full of humor and affection, and he knew then that he was truly - Twelve, even madly - in love with this woman.

Outside, the city's bells began to toll, a chorus of clangs and peals reminding them both that their time together had to come to an end. Throwing her head back, Moni groaned, flinging the sheet to the floor vexatiously. It was all Raubahn could do to restrain himself from rushing to her and flinging her onto the bed again at the sight, if only to keep her from leaving.

For her part, Moni seemed oblivious as she commenced to hunt about for her small clothes. Raubahn just watched, his desire giving way to amusement as she stumbled into her trousers and boots gracelessly. She must have caught his smirk, because she shot him a look of playful reprimand. 

“Make yourself useful and toss me my breastplate!”

He chuckled, and stooped to retrieve the hard leather shirt from the floor where it had been discarded in the previous night’s abandon before handing it to her, trying to keep his gaze on her face and not the pert swell of her bare breasts. She caught him again, though, and flashed him a devious grin before wriggling into her breastplate.

“Lace me up?” She purred, turning away, but still holding his gaze with a look that set his blood racing. 

He closed the gap and hooked his thumb under the thin leather cord, pulling it tight notch by notch. Once he reached the last hook, though, he paused, and leaned in to press his lips to the strip of bare skin between her collar and the nape of her neck. She hummed with pleasure, arching into him, and brought a hand up to caress his cheek. 

“You’re going to make me late,” she whispered.

“You’re already late,” he growled, nipping at her ear now, causing her to shudder against him.

That earned him a gentle swat, and he relented, albeit reluctantly, drawing away so she could finish tying off the cord into a simple knot. Turning back to him now, she stepped close again and slid her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. When she broke away, it was with one of those unreadable looks that he found so captivating and yet so utterly maddening… And then she smiled, softly, unreservedly, and he fell once more. He caressed her cheek, tracing the line of her high cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, letting it linger before pulling her into another kiss, hoping that he might convey in it some measure of what was in his heart. 

She sighed into him, seeming to lose herself in the embrace, if only for a moment. But then she drew away again, unmistakable sadness creeping into the edges of her expression. “I really do have to go,” she murmured. “Duty calls.”

“Aye…” he bowed his head, letting his forehead come to rest against hers, resignation settling heavy in his chest. They stood like that for several moments, the only sound between them the gentle rhythm of their breaths. Why did it have to be like this, why did it feel as if this thing he had yearned for was about to slip from his grasp once again… and a thousand questions more that he knew he could not ask swirled in Raubahn’s mind as he caressed her cheek again, not willing to let go yet.

She made the decision for him, gently pulling his hand away and stepping around him, not meeting his eyes. He turned, watching her with a leaden heart as she collected and donned the remainder of her armor, rebuilding her guard with each deft fasten of a buckle.

Fully girded, she finally turned to him to mutter softly, “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

All the words he wished to tell her seemed to catch in his throat, and all he could manage in reply was a nod as he whispered, “I will be here when you are.”

With a sad smile and an unreadable look in her eyes, she nodded, and then she was gone.


End file.
